


Acupuncture

by IWillNotBeSilenced



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Otabek falls asleep in Yuri's room, Yuri is very surprised when he wakes up, don't ask where Yuri is living, i don't know the answer, shameless hopeless fluff, tv and pirozkhis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:36:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillNotBeSilenced/pseuds/IWillNotBeSilenced
Summary: Yuri’s cheeks flare again. He splutters wordlessly before choking out, ‘I did /not/.’Otabek’s thumbs come to rest on Yuri’s cheekbones, covering his blush. Yuri isn’t sure he could pull away even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t, whatever that means.





	Acupuncture

Yuri squints at the light slanting through the window, straight under his fringe and into his eyes. He makes to push himself up to stretch and realises he can’t feel his arms. Squirming experimentally, he finds that his right arm firmly trapped under his torso while the other… Yuri turns his head to the left and gets a mouthful of dark hair. Spluttering, he jerks away, dislodging his arm from behind the back of the man sitting asleep against his bed frame.

Otabek slumps sideways before jolting forwards, wide awake. ‘Yuri!’ He chides, voice rough with sleep, rubbing his spine where Yuri’s elbow had been pressed against it for a significant portion of the night and earns a deep scowl in return.

Yuri is cranky because the feeling is starting to come back to his arms which is painful but also because he completely forgot that Otabek was there. The night before comes back to him slowly as Otabek stretches his arms over his head and cracks his back.

Otabek had called Yuri around 5pm, asking his plans for the evening. Yuri had mumbled non-committedly in response, not having any plans but also not wanting to give away to Otabek that he’d been hoping he would call to arrange something. Otabek, of course, knew this game very well by now and hung up with a statement rather than a request that he would be over within the hour.

At five minutes to six, Yuri answered the door to a more serious-looking Otabek than usual, which Yuri knew by now meant he was guarding himself. Yuri looked down at the paper bag in Otabek’s hands and raised an eyebrow. ‘What is that?’ 

‘Pirozkhis.’ Otabek said, flippant despite the slight tension in his shoulders, as if he didn’t care how Yuri received them. ‘I cooked and had leftovers. Thought you might not have eaten yet.’

Yuri knew this was a lie. There was no world in which Otabek would be cooking Russian food for himself, which meant he had either cooked specifically for Yuri or with the thought that they might eat together in mind. Still, Yuri tossed his hair and turned into the house with a deadpan expression that did nothing to express the way his heart squeezed as he looked at Otabek, standing dark and surly on his doorstep with a box of homemade pirozkhis. ‘I could eat.’

He heard the door close behind him so he knew Otabek had followed him inside. He grabbed a pair of plates from the kitchen and marched upstairs, trusting that his friend would follow. Yuri sat cross-legged and straight-backed on his bedroom floor and placed the plates in front of him as Otabek set down the box and sat opposite, his legs stretched out in front of him so that Yuri’s lithe frame was between them. Yuri looked down intently and busied himself with the pirozkhis, refusing to meet Otabek’s gaze which he could feel like pinpricks on his skin. It wasn’t comfortable, and he didn’t know what to do with the attention, which seemed to be getting more and more intense lately, but he didn’t necessarily want it to stop. Yuri was used to being looked at but not really seen and there was a sort of release in its sharpness. Like acupuncture. 

‘What were you doing before I got here?’ Otabek asked, breaking off small pieces of his pastry and popping them into his mouth.

Yuri glanced at the TV behind him and shrugged. ‘I was thinking of watching old skating competitions.’ He’d never admit this to anyone else, wouldn’t want people to know that much of him; he loved watching the masters at work, he used their performances to shape his own individuality. It was how he kept himself so determined, so unique, knowing there was no one out there who could do Yuri Plisetsky like he could. 

Otabek smiled, slow and knowing. He sees. ‘We could do that.’

Yuri scowled, though he wanted to smile, and got up to put the TV on. 

‘Wrinkles.’ Otabek smirked at his back. Yuri’s frown deepened, but the corner of his mouth tugged upwards, gone as quickly as it arrived as he sat back down, this time at Otabek’s side and they settled in silence to eat and watch. 

And then they were awake. Yuri doesn’t remember getting into bed which means there is a strong possibility that Otabek put him there himself. The thought makes his cheeks flush, crimson over the sleep-induced rosiness on his cheekbones. 

Otabek turns to him and grins. Yuri’s brow furrows again. ‘What?’ he mutters.

‘You look so young when you sleep.’ He leans forward as if inspecting Yuri’s face more closely.

‘Shut up.’ 

Otabek smirks again. Infuriating. Yuri reaches out and pushes his face away. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’

Otabek laughs, once, low, and leans in again. He presses his thumb to the deep crease between Yuri’s eyes and presses, smoothing the skin. ‘Wrinkles’ he insists.

Yuri forces his eyes wide sarcastically. ‘There.’ He snaps. 

Otabek’s face is suddenly serious again. He lifts his other hand and pushes his fingers towards Yuri’s temples. Keeping pressure, he moves them in small, slow circles through his hair and towards the back of his neck. 

‘What are you doing?’ Yuri asks, but his voice doesn’t come out nearly as sharp as he intends and surprise has smoothed his features. 

‘You’re so tense, Yuri. All the time. It looks tiring.’ A smirk plays around Otabek’s lips but doesn’t materialise fully. ‘No wonder you fell asleep on me.’

Yuri’s cheeks flare again. He splutters wordlessly before choking out, ‘I did not.’

Otabek’s thumbs come to rest on Yuri’s cheekbones, covering his blush. Yuri isn’t sure he could pull away even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t, whatever that means. 

Otabek leans forward and pauses, a breath between them, giving Yuri chance to pull back or shut him down. Yuri’s breath hitches and Otabek catches it pressing his lips gently against Yuri’s. 

Surprise gives way to reception as Yuri’s lips soften against Otabek’s mouth. The older boy’s tongue slides between Yuri’s teeth and as Otabek retracts, Yuri nips gently at his bottom lip in a moment of unexpected boldness. Otabek’s arms go around Yuri, pulling him upright and against him and Yuri is glad of it, because the sound the older boy makes has him completely unable to hold himself up independently. Yuri brings his hands up and rests them on Otabek’s neck, fingers curling in pleasure as they explore each other’s mouths. 

Finally, Otabek pulls back. Yuri gasps a little at the sudden absence of the other boy’s mouth. Otabek touches his forehead to Yuri’s and whispers, ‘You did.’

It takes Yuri a minute to remember the conversation they were having, and when he does, Otabek has switched the TV back on and climbed up onto the bed beside him in one fluid movement and their thighs are pressed together and it doesn’t matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading friends! As always, your kudos and comments are much appreciated. Hope everyone has a great weekend! <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr @kevindayright


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